


Blood Red Wings

by misakikinomoto



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon!fuck, F/M, Het, Multiple OFC, Mystery, Season/Series 04, Sirens, Sirens are Half-Angels, mythological creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misakikinomoto/pseuds/misakikinomoto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life for the Winchesters has never been easy. But now, on the eve of a celestial war, they find themselves travelling with an extremely powerful Siren- Raynea. As the seals continue to break, and the angels show their true plans, Castiel continues to go further and further away from heaven, as Raynea steadily unveils a chess game older than the universe. One she is winning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Red Wings

**Author's Note:**

> So this was posted a long time back on FF, and I've not updated it for a while, even though I have a chapter or two lying around on my laptop. I've just been to lazy to update. *uncomfortable head scratch*
> 
> In my defense, I got caught up with other stuff and other fics, and I tend to write fast, even if I don't post. -_- So in the end, I'll be zooming through the plot line, but I would have forgotten to actually post it up, even if it only takes a few seconds. *facepalm*
> 
> So I hope you like this! This was back when I only wrote het, and now I also write slash, so I get the best of both worlds. :3
> 
> Also, this fic will start out looking canon compliant, but will end up diverging. Most of this is just my wild imagination, and I've even changed some details, which you'll notice once you read. 
> 
> Also, just for the sake of giving you a vague picture, Raynea looks kinda like Katie McGrath.

It was a dark night in the small town of Harleyville, Tennessee. It was a small, almost unknown town. But it had recently been the site of a very gruesome murder. A girl stared out of the window of the only motel in town. Her black hair was loose and her cold, calculating blue eyes scanned the vicinity once, twice. She sighed into the phone.

“Yes sir.”

“And you will ensure they stay safe, Raynea.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And, Raynea? Do try to have some fun on the way,” said the man’s deep voice.

Raynea let out a chuckle that almost seemed foreign from the girl, whose entire demeanour seemed cold and serious.

“Will do, sir.”

The phone was then disconnected. She stared out of the window some more. The Ranch House case was over and done with. She had solved the issue quickly and efficiently, in the same way she always did.

However, till this point the man she had been speaking to would only send her on lone missions. Not once had he asked he to do something like this. But it seemed that this one time she would have to follow his orders, despite her misgivings.

Because when John Winchester gave you an order, you sure has hell had to follow it. Because he was always right.

-x-x-x-x-x-

300 miles away, Dean and Sam Winchester were driving down the interstate, looking for a small town called West Hampshire, Tennessee. “So what did Dad say about this place?” said Sam, frowning slightly.

“Something about us needing to meet someone there. Apparently, there’s no need for us to look for them, they’ll find us when it’s time. Till then, there’s also a case. Something odd’s been going on here, something about, um, teens being killed every month. The officials have passed it off as a serial killer, but Dad’s not so certain,” said Dean.

Sam nodded, and looked out of the window again.

“Hey, that’s the turning,” he said after a while, seeing the board that directed them to the small town. Dean nodded and turned, following the road to whatever their Dad had sent them after.

They passed by a number of small, homely houses. There were very few people out on the streets at this time of the night.

“Come on. Lets find a motel, and start tomorrow,” said Dean, seeing the sign of the only motel in town.

“And grab a beer while we’re at it,” grumbled Sam.

Dean nodded, and they parked their car.

“Well, you got here sooner than I thought you would.” Both boys turned to see a girl, leaning against the Impala, in a black sleeveless top, black skinny jeans, and a pair of black leather boots. On her hands were a pair of leather fingerless gloves. Her lips twitched in amusement.

“Raynea. Your dad sent me,” she said calmly, and Sam literally started.

“You know where Dad is?” he said eagerly.

“No, he doesn’t give me information like that. Doesn’t want me to get too involved in whatever he’s getting into. Told me to just tag along with the two of you.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance. She was certainly enthusiastic about this.

“Now, are you guys coming, or will I be drinking beer alone?” she said, and Sam grinned.

“We’ll be coming along.”

-x-x-x-x-

Dean frowned mildly. The place she had taken them was no ordinary pub. She smirked at his expression but said nothing. Several of the men around them were watching her hungrily, or muttering to each other. It seemed this girl, Raynea, was rather well known. She guided them to a small stall that was empty, and signaled to the closest bartender.

“Evening Miss Raynea,” stammered the young boy. He was probably overwhelmed by the aura of the girl.

“Evening Jake. Three beers please,” she said amiably.

The boy nodded, his eyes wide in a manner Dean could only call worship, and scampered off.

“Well, Winchesters, welcome to one of the few Hunter bars in this country. You’re looking at Jaywalk, the biggest hunter bar in this side of the country,” she said, dramatically motioning to the area around them.

“We didn’t know it was here,” said Sam, frowning slightly.

Raynea shrugged. “It’s not very easy to find. I know the people here, so it’s easy. But for two guys who literally know absolutely no fellow hunters, its natural you’ll be unaware of its whereabouts.”

“So, how do you know our Dad?” said Dean, unsure of how to start a conversation with a girl who neither seemed interested nor likely to start any topic.

“He saved me from certain death. My kind always pay their debts in full,” said Rayne simply.

“Your kind?” said Sam. Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“The Pendragon Tragedy. You were the survivor weren’t you?” he said. She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, but only your father, and of course the rest of my kind, knows that. The general human public thinks my family all perished.”

“Pendragon? Kind?” said Sam, completely confused.

“Page 201 of your Dad’s journal,” she said, simply and Sam pulled it out.

“You’re kidding me,” said Sam after he had read it. Raynea raised an eyebrow.

“I’m aware I may not seem suffice, but…” she started.

“ I think what he means to say if that he doesn’t quite believe what you are,” said Dean.

“I’m a Siren. My ancestor was a fallen Seraphim. How’s that so unbelievable? You guys fight things that shouldn’t exist all the time,” she said, shrugging and then looked at her now empty bottle of beer.

“You guys ok if I drink something stronger?” she said, and they both shrugged. Rather Dean shrugged while Sam continued to read the entry.

“Hey Jake, can I have my usual now?” she called and within seconds, the boy had come with a bottle of vodka.

She took a deep drink from the bottle and sighed.

“Anyway, I suppose Dean can tell you about the Pendragon Tragedy. He probably knows more than I do, because your dad refuses to tell me anything in fear of my tendency to take revenge,” she said.

“I only know that something suddenly decided to wipe out you clan, and Dad only arrived in time to save you. I was around 5 at the time, if I remember correctly,” said Dean, frowning in contemplation.

“I was 4. I don’t think you were even born at the time, Sam,” she said, shrugging.

“But eventually, you get over it. It’s not like I remember anything. I just hunt to feel like I’m following my legacy,” she said.

“Legacy?” said Dean.

“My clan was a Hunter Clan. We hunt Sirens of the other side, Vamps, Werewolves, etc.”

“What do you mean by Other side?” said Sam.

“It’s like Heaven and Hell. Some Sirens lean towards Hell, while others lean to Heaven. The Unseeley and Seeley, respectively,” she said.

“Where do you lie?”

“Hunter Sirens are a group of their own. We kill whoever tried to destroy the Balance. Sometime, the Seeley get to ambitious, and try to overturn the UnSeeley. And vice versa. If that should happen, it would lead to utter Chaos. There’s a reason why God created Good and Bad on Earth. With Heaven, there would be no Balance. Both are necessary, in equal quantities. That’s what Hunter Sirens protect.”

Then her eyes flashed.

“Get down.”

“What?”

“Under the table, both of you. Now.”

They scrambled down,just before the door of the pub was blown off its hinges.

“Raynea! Oh Raynea!” sang a male voice. Dean frowned, and Raynea stood, but not before signaling for them to stay under.

“Ah, Dan. To what do I owe this…..pleasure,” she said sweetly, letting out the word ‘pleasure’ in the most disgusted manner possible.

“I want your two new boy-toys.”

“Sorry, but I’m not done playing with them yet.”

“I’m surprised, Raynea,” said a new voice, again male, “I never thought a woman of your station would take orders from a human.”

“That too John Winchester.” This caused the group to snicker.

“And I never thought you lot were suicidal. Do you remember what I did to the Oppenheim clan? Or have you forgotten?” she said, her smirk evident in her voice.

“Ah, but we’re stronger,” said Dan, egoistically.

Raynea chuckled. “I’m a level 12 on the Jones scale, boys. A scale that is only till ten. You are all mid-level talents. What makes you think you can defeat me?”

“Ah, but your high talent makes you unstable,” said another voice.

“Tell me, boys, have you EVER seen me loose control?”

There was a silence.

“Thought so. Now say good bye.”

There was a feminine scream, and then all was still.

“You can come out now,” said Raynea calmly, and they came out, and saw a pile of dead bodies.

“Sorry about this Reggie, won’t happen again,” she called to the manager and hurried them out.

“We better get you to the motel. Then we’ll talk.”


End file.
